Just Another Distraction
by Harmne
Summary: Takes place two weeks after A Birthday To Remember. Stephanie and Ranger talk in the car while waiting on the target of a distraction job. COMPLETE


This story takes place two weeks after _A Birthday To Remember._

_Disclaimer: The story is mine, but the wonderful characters belong to Janet Evanovich. I just like to play with them. (I'd REALLY like to play with Ranger…) _

I'd managed to bring in two skips in one morning, and was feeling pretty full of myself when I stopped in at the bonds office to turn in my body receipts and get my check. I hadn't gotten shot at or rolled in garbage, although one knee was sore from landing on a rock when I'd knelt to cuff the second guy. I had next month's rent covered with two weeks to spare, and a nice nest-egg growing in my bank account.

Connie was handing me my check when she froze mid-motion, a sure sign Ranger was in the room. "Hi, Ranger," I called out, grinning, and a half-second later his hand gripped the back of my neck.

"Watch it, smartass," he whispered into the hair at my ear, making me shiver. "I still owe you for siccing that Indian woman on me. It's adding up."

Crap. I'd forgotten about that. A minor attack of nerves struck, and I fought not to giggle. Not that I was really worried. I was pretty sure I'd enjoy whatever form of 'punishment' Ranger decided to meet out. How sick was that?

He let his hand slide down my back to rest on my hip, which pulled me slightly closer to him, and dropped a small stack of files on Connie's desk. "They're all in except George Alexander, and he's in jail in Virginia for a DUI. Tell Vinnie if he wants me to go get him I'll need the appropriate papers."

"Okay, I'll tell him," Connie answered. Lula was strangely silent, and I spotted her behind the filing cabinets were she could ogle discreetly.

Ranger turned to leave, taking me with him. Just before he opened the door he said, loud enough for Connie and Lula to hear, "I need you tonight, Babe. Are you free?"

I could hear Connie and Lula gasp. I shook my head as the door swung shut behind us. "Do you realize what that sounded like? What am I saying…? Of course you do, you did it deliberately! Thanks a lot, Ranger. They'll be driving me nuts for the next week." I could feel him laughing as he nudged me into the mouth of the alley, out of sight – which would doubtless add more fuel to the flames. "You have an evil streak."

"Would you believe me if I said it was a slip of the tongue?" he asked, still chuckling.

"Not a chance." I wished he hadn't mentioned 'tongue' because it brought back memories that tended to curl my toes. I stepped away from him. "Do you need a decoy tonight?"

"That, too." And he kissed me.

It took a few minutes for my brain to get back to normal operating condition after the kiss, and it didn't help that Ranger stood there with that damn almost-smile on his face. One of these days I was going to get even. Yeah, right.

"The usual MO?" I asked.

Ranger nodded. "Pretty much."

"What time?"

"That's the different part. This guy's hanging at an after-hours club in the business district. Clientele is mostly business yuppies, but the club doesn't even open until midnight."

"Yuppies…so kind of a classy slut?"

His lips quirked. "That'll do it. I'll pick you up at 11:45."

I watched him walk back to the Porsche, smiling slightly at the view. Who wouldn't love to watch the way Ranger walks? I sighed as he drove away and headed to the Jeep. I had plenty of time before that job, so I might as well do some more of my own.

I spent a few hours checking possible leads on a new skip, then went to my mom's for dinner. It was fairly quiet tonight, as Grandma had gone out with some geriatric Don Juan for dinner and a movie. It was just Mom, Dad, and me, which was very unusual. It was almost nice. Almost, because I don't think Mom can have a conversation longer than two minutes with me anymore without mentioning some place is hiring for some menial position. Oh, well. She did look impressed when I told her I'd taken in two skips today without even getting rolled on the ground. As usual, Dad said nothing.

When I got up to help Mom with the dishes my knee was stiff. Uh-oh, not a good sign. I managed to help with the dishes and get out of the house without limping, thank goodness, because it would have given Mom something else to say.

I pulled my jeans off when I got home and looked at my knee. It was swollen slightly and had the beginnings of a really dark bruise already creeping under the skin. What in the heck? It hadn't hurt that bad when it happened! I did some careful feeling around and decided the rock must have caught just right at the edge of my kneecap. Crap. No short dress for this distraction job. Just as well it was supposed to be classy-slut tonight.

I sorted through my closet until I came to the black pantsuit I'd bought myself for my birthday several weeks ago. Ranger had seen it before – he was at the impromptu party that had grown up around my celebration with Connie and Lula, and had even danced with me – so it wouldn't give me that private thrill I got from watching his reaction to a new distraction outfit. But then again, the last time I wore this I woke up with Ranger in my bed.

Just thinking about that morning got me jittery. I still didn't remember exactly what happened that night. I tried to put it out of my mind. I checked my locks, skinned out of my clothes, set the alarm clock, and took a nap. And dreamed of Ranger and Joe…

The alarm jolted me out of bed at ten, and thanks to the dreams I'd been having I woke up in a state. I limped in a bee-line for the shower and had a fling with the shower massage. Drying myself off later, in a much better mood, I grimaced at the sight of my knee.

I used the magic hair conditioner from Mr. Alexander and dried my hair into soft curls. I wanted a different look tonight, so I did a new makeup trick I'd learned from one of Connie's magazines using soft pink, mauve, and brown shadow to make my eyes look big, then lined them with brown-black kohl and did the smudgy thing so it looked almost natural. Light coat of new self-curling mascara. Mauve pink blush to make my cheekbones stand out, and lipstick between mauve and mocha. Hmm. Interesting look. More Audrey Hepburn than my usual distraction look, but good. Probably too natural for tonight's work, so I added more eye shadow, liner, and mascara and used a deep plum-red lipstick. Yes, that was more like it. I grinned at myself. I loved the challenge of trying to get some sort of reaction out of Ranger. I was actually getting better at it. I wasn't sure if it was because I was getting better at reading him, or if he was actually letting things show to me more, but I liked it.

I misted myself with my dwindling supply of black-market Dolce Vida, then slipped into a black silk Victoria's Secret set and finally the pantsuit.

Last time I wore this outfit I'd had a rhinestone stick-on tattoo around my belly button, and had vague memories of someone pulling the rhinestones off with their teeth. I wasn't sure who it had been, or even if it was even a real memory, but allowing myself to think about it was going to ruin the shower-massage's work. Tonight I had a single jewel like a belly-dancer's. I'd actually entertained the idea of getting my belly button pierced until I remembered how bad my ear-piercing had hurt. I'll stick to stick-ons.

Since my knee was stiff, and I was supposed to be an office-worker type anyway, I stayed with the same 3-inch buckle-on shoes I'd worn for my birthday. They weren't as sexy as FMP's, but they were less likely to have me limping on my gimpy knee.

I was ready, and had twenty minutes to spare. I stuck some essentials in a small black bag, and flopped into the living room chair to wait, trying to decide if I should eat anything or not.

I started awake when I heard the chain swing free as the door opened. Strange how I've become so attuned to such a small noise. I opened my eyes and watched Ranger step inside.

"Babe," he greeted with a small smile. "You're ready? I'm a little early."

I stood up. My knee complained and I leaned on the arm of the chair to steady myself, but used the move to pick up my purse. Ranger didn't frown, so it must have looked natural. I'm pretty sure if he saw me limp he'd say something.

"I gave myself plenty of time." I stepped around the chair slowly, because of my knee, honest, but Ranger's eyes caught on my face, then on the glint of the jewel in my belly-button. Then his eyes flicked to my right wrist for the bracelet, but I'd put it on my left because I couldn't work the clasp left-handed. The corners of his mouth curved up slightly – which is probably Ranger's equivalent of a wolf whistle. Good reaction!

I locked up, and we walked down to his car – taking the stairs because the elevator was out again. He was driving a BMW tonight, to blend in with the yuppies. He didn't usually talk much while he drove. Tonight was one of the few exceptions as he laid out a few more details of the job.

"I've got two men inside - a bartender and a customer - and one across the street. They'll signal us when the man shows up. I'll drop you in front of the club a few minutes later, so he'll see your entrance. This guy usually picks fresh meat."

"What's he charged with?" I'd forgotten to ask before.

"Three counts of assault and attempted rape. Apparently he likes rough foreplay, and his last few pick-ups didn't." I think I made a strangled noise but before I could make any protest, he reassured me. "Max and Bobby will watch you inside, and Tank and I will be right outside the doors. No alone time with this one, Babe."

I just nodded. Ranger's distraction jobs usually went fairly smoothly, and the few that had gone weird hadn't been anything humanly preventable. Just my continuing bad karma.

When we reached downtown he pulled the BMW into a parking garage and went up one level, pulling into a space on the front row that looked out over the street. It was five minutes until midnight, and across the road and down a half block the lights began to flicker on in a basement entryway. A few minutes later the first customers began to arrive.

Over the next twenty minutes I counted six cars and twice that many cabs emptying out into the club, and several of the cabs had been full. The once-deserted street was filling rapidly with cars.

Ranger had switched the engine off but left the key on, so music was still drifting softly in the stillness of the car.

A half hour passed. I was doing pretty good. I'd only shifted in my seat once, because my knee was feeling cramped, and so far I'd resisted the urge to chat at Ranger. I say 'at' because on stakeouts he rarely talks back. I think he pretty much tunes out whatever I'm saying. Someday I'll test that theory by saying something outrageous in a normal tone of voice. Maybe.

Ranger and his men were keeping in touch via some high-tech radios. Ranger was wearing a tiny wireless earpiece, and every once in a while he'd murmur something too low for me to catch. The music was some classical stuff, and it was making me sleepy. I shifted in my seat again and put my head back. I could smell Bulgari. It made me want to squirm again.

The music ended, there was a soft whir and a faint click, and another CD started playing. Still instrumental, but this one had a different rhythm at least. A little beat. Sort of like music to dance to – and I mean waltz, not gyrate. My mind drifted a little, and I found myself thinking about my birthday bash, and dancing nearly all night…

A faint murmur from Ranger brought me back to myself, and I opened one eye. He was looking out the windshield like he was before, but there was that almost-smile crooking up the edges of his mouth. I frowned, wondering what was amusing him, and he glanced over at me. The almost-smile grew a little before his eyes returned to the street.

Was he smiling because I was sleeping on surveillance again?

"Nice nap?"

Okay, so he was amused by me. "I wasn't asleep," I said, and it came out a little cranky.

Ranger turned his head away but I could still see the corner of his mouth. He was smiling.

A sigh huffed out. "Okay, maybe I was. I wasn't talking in my sleep, was I?"

He grinned at me. "No, Babe. More like…dancing."

Dancing? In my sleep? I caught myself sort of swaying to the rhythm of the music and stopped myself. Okay. "It's this music's fault," I excused, and made myself straighten up in the seat. I looked over the dimly lit dashboard, searching for a clock. "What time is it?"

"One thirty-eight."

Okay, I sat still for an hour and a half. I was glad I hadn't eaten before midnight, or I would probably have to go to the bathroom by now. Briefly I wondered if the guy usually showed up late. Did he have a day job? I sighed. "If you don't want me to fall asleep, talk to me."

Ranger spoke without looking at me, sill half-smiling. "If I didn't tell you last time, I like that outfit."

I blinked. Okay, was I awake? "Thank you."

"I liked the other earrings better, though."

I'd worn plain silver hoops tonight. On my birthday I'd worn clusters of glittery silver chains with tiny charms on the ends. Ranger notices my earrings? Before I could think of anything to say, Ranger murmured something into his headset and smiled in my direction.

"Bobby is bored and Max is getting hit on by a gay customer," he told me with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Why is Bobby bored?"

"Only two single women, and he has a short attention span."

I had to snicker at the sly answer.

"Who is Max?"

"New man."

"What does he look like? So I'll know him when I go inside."

"Native American, six and a half feet tall. Can't miss him."

I grinned at the description. Ranger was in a playful mood, it seemed. Hmm. I wonder if there's a chance he's in the mood to actually let slip a little information? I shifted in my seat again and turned towards him slightly.

"How long have you known me now?" I asked, and he shot me a 'get real' look.

"The same length of time you've known me. Two years, seven months."

Wow, Ranger keeps track? It momentarily sidetracked me, but not for long.

"I know your full name is Ricardo Carlos Maňoso, but I've only heard you introduce yourself once, and you called yourself Carlos."

"So?"

"So! Is Carlos what your friends that don't call you Ranger call you?"

"Who says I have friends that don't call me Ranger?"

Okay, maybe he had me there. I don't know anyone in Trenton that doesn't call him Ranger. In fact, other than Joe, I've very seldom heard anyone even call him Maňoso. Just "Ranger". Like "Cher". I almost said that out loud, but stopped myself just in time. I could imagine his reaction to that one, and while it would be hilarious, I didn't know how much longer we'd be stuck in the car, waiting. He'd get even.

"What about girlfriends? What have your girlfriends called you?"

"I don't do girlfriends."

"What about your ex-wife? What did she call you?" I was pushing it, and I knew it. Very few people knew he'd been married. Even fewer knew he had a daughter, and I was honored to be among them.

"Before or after our divorce?"

His lips were starting to have that almost-smile curve going on. Damn, but he was good at answering a question with a question.

"Before."

"_Marido_." The Spanish word rolled off his tongue and gave me a small rush, even though I had no idea what he'd said. I had to take a breath before I could ask the next question and I saw his lips quirk. Damn the man! He'd probably caught my reaction. I did my best to ask the next question in the same tone of voice, but it might have come out just a bit breathier.

"What does that mean?"

He cut his eyes toward me knowingly, and said, "Husband."

I started to ask the next obvious question, but shut my mouth again. He'd be waiting for it. "Is your mom still alive?"

He looked amused at the question change, but he answered, "Yes."

"When you visit her, what does she call you?"

His lips twitched. "It depends on whether she's mad at me or not."

I had to laugh, even as shock registered in the back of my brain. _Ranger is playing along, even teasing me to keep the game going! _"Does she yell your full name when she's mad?"

He actually rolled his eyes, and when he spoke he was obviously imitating his mother's angry voice. "_Ricardo Carlos Maňoso, I'm ashamed to call you mi hijo!"_

"Did you just say "hero"?

"Hijo – son."

"Okay… What about when she's happy with you, what does she call you then?"

"Niňo"

I frowned a minute, thinking. I knew that word. "Doesn't that mean, like, little boy?"

"Yes. What's with all the questions, babe?"

"You don't look like a Ricardo."

He turned to look at me, and he kept looking for a full minute – more than enough to make me nervous. He leaned closer to me, his eyes darkened, and he said something in Spanish in a low voice that sent goosebumps all up my spine. The first part sounded like a question, but the second part… The second part had my nipples puckering, and I sincerely hoped the car's dimness hid them.

His phone rang, and I almost wet my pants. He leaned back and answered with his usual "Yo," listened a moment, then said "head back" and hung up. It gave me a second to pull myself back together; well, as much as was possible in only a second.

"Our man isn't coming. He's holed up with a new girlfriend tonight," he explained, and he pulled off the little earpiece and tucked it into his pocket. He'd started to reach for the key in the ignition when my mouth popped open on its own.

"You don't look like a Carlos, either."

Ranger just froze mid-reach, then slowly turned to look at me. I felt like a rabbit confronted with a tiger and my heart kicked into overdrive. Why was I baiting Ranger?

Never in a million years would I have guessed what he'd do next.

He sat back and pushed the sleeves of his black t-shirt up to this forearms. Slowly he reached back and pulled the tie from his hair, running both hands through the length of it and letting it fall around his face in waves. Then he turned towards me, laying his left arm along the top of the steering wheel and letting his fingers dangle. He tilted his head so that he was looking up at me through his lashes, his eyes went dark and his lips tilted up in a sexy smile. And when he spoke his voice was low and his English was heavily accented.

"Do I look more like a Carlos now, _amante_? Or maybe you think I look like a Ricardo? Which do you like? Tell me what you like. I can be whatever you want."

Yikes! Yikes! Yikes! Think Antonio Bandaras to the twelfth power! "Don't do that!" I barely managed to squeak.

He laughed and sat back, scraping his hair back into its ponytail.

"Jez, Ranger…you're a dangerous man." I couldn't help it, the words slipped out while I was trying to breathe.

Ranger gave me another look and an enigmatic smile as he started the car. "Remember that, _querida_. Don't play with fire."

It took me most of the way back to my apartment to recover from the shock. It helped that Ranger went into his usual Zen driving mode and didn't talk to me. I kept looking at him from the corner of my eyes, hoping he wouldn't notice, wondering about the sexy boy-toy act. It brought back to me how little I actually knew about the man I considered a friend. I'd begun to think I knew him pretty well…then he did something like this.

I was distracted when we pulled into my lot. Ranger slid out of the car while I was still unfastening my seat belt, and opened my door. I stepped out without thinking, and my knee buckled. Only his quick reflexes kept me from biting the pavement.

"I think I fell for that one," I muttered to cover my embarrassment as he stood me back on my feet and held onto me while I caught my balance. Unfortunately he didn't seem to find my attempt at humor amusing.

"What's wrong with your knee?"

I sighed. "I'm not sure. I must have put my knee down on a rock while I was putting handcuffs on a skip earlier today. It didn't hurt at the time, but it was starting to bruise up when I got dressed for tonight's job."

One corner of his lips was quirked up. "That's why no dress? I wondered."

His hand was staying at the back of my waist as I took a couple of steps toward the back door of the building. I made it about five more when my knee gave away again, and once again only Ranger's arms saved me. This time he didn't bother to stand me up, just lifted me into his arms and headed for the door.

"It's just stiffened up because I was sitting still," I said. "I'm sure if you let me walk it'll loosen up."

"The elevator's out, remember? If your knee gives out on the stairs you could take a serious fall." He maneuvered me easily through the door and across the lobby to the stairs, and he wasn't even breathing hard.

"I'll hold on to the handrail, and I'll be fine."

"Give it up, babe. It's more than a bruise. I need to look at your knee." He went up the stairs like I didn't weigh anything – and I'm not exactly a featherweight.

"No you don't. It'll be fine." We were already at my door, and he refused to put me down while I unlocked it.

He hesitated halfway through the door. "Either I look at you knee, or I take you to the emergency room and have a doctor look."

I tried to stare him down. Stupid, I know, but I hate hospitals and he knows it. I gave in with a growl. "You just want an excuse to get your hands on my leg."

"That, too."

He was humoring me. We both knew that if he really wanted, he could have more than just his hands on me with very little persuasion. My lack of resistance to Ranger's advances was the source of many guilt attacks and arguments with Joe.

Ranger sat me down on the end of my bed and went down on one knee in front of me. His hands were warm but business-like as he removed my shoes and knee-high stockings and attempted to push the flared pants leg up far enough to expose my knee. It wouldn't go up far enough – the flare was only from the knee down.

He sat back slightly and gave me a measuring look. "You need to take the pants off, or change. Your call."

I only debated a moment. I couldn't remember where my shorts were, and besides, Ranger has seen me in a lot less. I had on plain black silk underwear, nothing all that revealing. I stood carefully and slipped the pants down my legs. When I sat back down on the bed Ranger pulled them off my feet and tossed them on the bed beside me, then turned his attention back to my knee.

He made a soft sound under his breath when he saw the bruising, and he looked up at me with a frown. "How did you do this?"

"I don't know," I answered. I didn't like the frown. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to like what it meant. "The only thing I can think of is that when I cuffed Marty Slyman I kneeled down on gravel. I thought maybe I bruised it against the bone somehow."

His hands were gently feeling around the bruised area, probing carefully. I watched his hands, his skin mocha-latte against my plain vanilla. One hand slid down to my ankle, lifting my leg slowly while the other held my knee steady.

"Babe, you've dislocated your kneecap."

"Dislocated? How could… But it didn't hurt! Wouldn't that have hurt?"

"Might not have going out. Probably will putting it back." He sat back and looked up at me again. "I can do it, or I can take you to the hospital, but either way it needs to get taken care of soon. The longer you wait the worse it'll be."

"Will it hurt less if I go to the hospital?"

The edges of his mouth tilted up. "No, but they have pain pills."

I took a deep breath. "I still have some left from last year. If you don't mind, I'd rather have you do it. You already know I'm a crybaby about pain."

He grinned. "You might cry, but you've never let it stop you. You'd have made a good Marine." He sobered and stood. "I'll make it as painless as possible, babe, but it'll help if you can relax. Lie down and I'll see if I can get these muscles loosened up." He helped me move back and stretch out on the bed. Then he sat beside me and started massaging my leg around my knee, my thigh, and my calf. Slowly he worked the knots out of the muscles, got the tight feeling to loosen. Parts of my knee felt numb, and I knew he was right. It was going to hurt. The knowledge made my muscles tighten again, and I searched for a distraction.

Ranger was the best distraction I knew.

"Did you speak both Spanish and English growing up?" I asked.

He shot me a smile. He probably guessed what I was trying to do. "Yes, and I picked up a few others here and there."

"What else?"

He spoke for a few minutes in what I recognized as French, then switched to something that sounded almost like Spanish.

"Italian?" I guessed, and he nodded. Then he spoke again in a harsher-sounding language, then something that sounded Oriental, then something else I didn't recognize at all. "What was all that?"

"I know enough German to get around, some Japanese and Chinese, and the basics of Arabic."

I grinned. "Just when I think I know you, you do or say something that throws me."

"I know the feeling," he said with a speaking look at me.

"Yeah, right. I speak only 'Burg English, and the only Italian I know is rude gestures."

"Yet you continuously pull off things that no one would guess are within your abilities."

"That's just luck."

"You underestimate yourself," he said softly, and his hands moved. One hand held my ankle and pulled my leg straight; the other gently pushed my kneecap back into place with an audible pop. The pain was sharp enough to make me arch off the bed, but it quickly receded to a dull ache. When I caught my breath enough to notice, Ranger was once again gently massaging my leg.

"I'm sorry. You okay, babe?"

"I'm okay. That wasn't as bad as I was afraid it would be."

"Maybe you're just tougher than you think."

I had to snicker. Me, tough? "Yeah, right."

Ranger's mouth quirked. "Santos cursed me for ten minutes straight when I had to pop his kneecap back a few years ago."

The numbness was gone from my knee, replaced by a warm tingle from the touch of his magic hands. "You probably weren't as gentle with him as you were with me."

His hands stilled, one very high on my thigh almost touching the elastic of my panties. His eyes slid up, over my mostly exposed torso. The split front of my top had opened and slid off my sides, leaving only the jewel between the upper edge of my panties and the bottom band of my bra. "I wasn't gentle the first time," he corrected me in a low voice as one hand slid slowly up, over my pelvis and across the silk waistband, to rest just below the jewel in my navel. "I took what I wanted, trapped you so that you couldn't refuse me." His other hand came up to touch my face. "I've regretted that since."

I couldn't catch my breath for a moment, and when I could and tried to protest, he was already up and halfway to the bedroom door.

"Ice the knee for twenty minutes. It'll feel better in the morning." And he was gone.

"But I didn't want to refuse you," I whispered to the empty doorway.

_Finis_

_A/N: I know, the ending is abrupt but don't yell. There are more 'episodes' to come!_


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